


Frosted With Nostalgia

by phantomdoodler



Category: Free!
Genre: Drabble, Family Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2018058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomdoodler/pseuds/phantomdoodler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs. Tachibana recounts the story of the first time Haru spent Makoto's birthday with them.  Simple fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frosted With Nostalgia

**Author's Note:**

> This started a drabble prompt fill on tumblr and got a little out of hand. But I sort of like how it turned out, so voilà!

“Do you remember the first time you celebrated Makoto’s birthday with us?” Mrs. Tachibana’s question came as a bit of a surprise. Frankly, Haru couldn’t remember much of anything of his pre-Makoto era. As corny as it was, it really did feel like they’d been “best friends forever.” 

“Mooom,” Ran whined. “Isn’t it cake time yet?” 

Makoto let out one of his patented good-natured patient older brother laughs. “You know the rules. Finish your carrots first.” Ignoring the twins’ continued grumbling, he turned back to his mom. “Wasn’t it my fifth birthday? Maybe sixth?”

“Fourth,” she smiled. “We invited all of the kids from your pre-school class and decorated the whole house with balloons.” 

“But I didn’t go to pre-school with Makoto,” Haru said. 

“That’s right, you didn’t.” Tachimama nodded, deftly catching Ren’s arm just before he slipped a carrot under the table. “Your grandma always said you’d learn more taking care of the house with her. Honestly, I don’t know how she did it; taking care of a toddler without so much as a break or a helping hand. I was happy just to get an hour away from this guy.” 

“Sorry, mom,” Makoto laughed sheepishly. 

“Oh, sure, you say that now. But you weren’t such a shining example of the perfect son back then, now were you?” 

“You were saying?” Haru nudged the conversation back on track. Makoto would have to remember to thank him later. 

“Oh, right. Makoto’s fourth birthday. Anyways, we decorated the house and I made the food and the fire truck cake and we were all ready to start the party. Makoto was so excited to have his friends over, he was waiting for them on the stoop a whole half hour before hand.” 

“You’re the one that always taught me to be early for things,” Makoto smiled. 

“Yeah, it kept you out of the house longer,” Tachimama laughed. “But anyways, you were out there almost an hour and no one showed up. You were devastated.” 

“Why didn’t they come?” Haru couldn’t imagine a Makoto ever not being the class sweetheart. Even throughout the awkward stages of puberty everyone loved him. 

“Well, I can’t say for sure. A couple parents called to say their kids had gotten a cold and they didn’t want it to spread, but that’s mom-speak for ‘I’m cancelling at the last minute and don’t want to tell you why.’” 

“Mom, cake time!” Ren kicked his feet against the table leg, earning a stern look from his mother. “I finished my vegetables!”

“Even the ones under your napkin?” 

“Aughhh.” Ren resigned himself to picking at the displaced carrots once more. 

“Now where was I?” 

“Makoto got stood up by all his friends,” Haru replied. 

“Haru…” Makoto looked as if he’d been wounded. “You don’t have to put it so bluntly.” 

“Well he’s right,” his mom cut in. “You did get stood up by all your friends. All except for one, that is.” Smiling at Haru, she continued. “Makoto was sitting there on the stoop crying his eyes out. I didn’t know what to do. Tell him, ‘it’s okay, honey, your friends parents just don’t give a shit about your birthday?’”

“Mom!” Makoto grabbed the nearest twin, covering their ears all too late. 

“Oh, calm down. I cursed around you and you turned out fine.” 

“What did you say?” Haru to the rescue once again. 

“Well I didn’t say anything. I was standing at the door trying to think of what to do when that quiet little boy from up the street, the one that didn’t know any of the kids at the pre-school, the one that didn’t talk about anything but fish facts, well he just marched right up those steps.” 

“Fish facts?” Makoto smiled, relaxing again.  
“Oh, I don’t remember,” Tachimama replied. “Jellyfish aren’t actually fish, tuna can swim at speeds of up to 60 kilometers per hour, things like that.” 

“70 kilometers per hour,” Haru corrected. 

Makoto chuckled. “You still remember fish facts from when you were four?” 

“It’s common knowledge.” 

“Uh, right…” Tachimama visibly struggled not to roll her eyes. “Anyways, little Haruka Nanase marches right up those steps and asks what’s wrong. And Makoto says, ‘I can’t share my cake with anybody.’ All this time I’d been worrying about him developing some sort of abandonment complex and he’s worried about the cake! Well, Haru, you sat down next to him and put your arm around him, and you said, you said very gallantly, you said, ‘It’s okay. I’ll always come to eat your cake.’ It was all really very noble.” 

“Ah…haha…” Makoto forced himself to laugh. Even 13 years behind him, it still felt embarrassing. Crying over cake. That certainly sounded like little Makoto. 

“Mom, I finished them for real this time, see?” Ren opened his mouth. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll go get the cake.” 

Soon enough, Makoto was watching 17 candles flickering before him as the others sang Happy Birthday. He’d never been very good at coming up with wishes, but he had an idea this year.

“I want to share my cake with Haru every year from now on, too.”


End file.
